Tag: gay sex

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by ccallenreese

sublimecock:

“Well…that’s one way to keep ‘em down on the farm…” (67)

Heath did not know what to do with his son. Dylan had been caught three times now giving handjobs in the boys bathroom at school, only once for cigarettes. He wore his sister’s jeans, walked with a swish, and spoke with a campy tone. Frankly, Heath thought it was an embarrassment to have a teenage son acting in such a loose way, not a manly, proper way. He was horrified to learn how Dylan had been not only experimenting with men instead of the ladies. He might have tolerated this infarction until Dylan left for college, but his son’s grades were slipping. A cousin named Joe on his wife’s side owned a farm, and after some talk, Dylan’s parents sent him there for re-education.

Hard work and distance from confusing media imagery would align Dylan right. Having proper, heterosexual male role models would teach him how to chase girls and bed em well too.

Dylan initially hated the farm. He had to get up super early. The work gave his soft hands blisters, his fair skin burned, and unflattering bootcut jeans replaced his beloved cigarette jeans in a rainbow of colors. Also the chafing! His poor balls.
Dylan was a smart kid though – he couldn’t stop working unless he was providing another service in exchange, and began to conspire to put out. He didn’t have to lift a finger though. The other men sensed Dylan’s the natural need to submit and please other men, to seek their approval. Their leader, a man named Rich, asked Dylan to join him for a piss one afternoon. Afterwards, Rich didn’t put his cock away – he played with it until he had Dylan’s attention, then began to masturbate right in front of the young man. It was the perfect bait and the young lad was helpless being so close to a hard cock after not having one for weeks.

Oh how he missed the taste of cock on his tongue! Sucking a cock with the scent of sweat and Earth around his nostrils drove Dylan wild. Word spread quickly of the young twink’s services and soon the blisters on Dylan’s hands healed and he was back to wearing tank tops again. All the hands on the farm knew the signal – they just had to unbutton their pants and the twink would come right over to kiss their neglected lips, caress their bulging pecs, and empty their full balls down his tight throat. So much easier to work in the hot sun with a drained cock and a happy buzz.

It wasn’t two weeks later when Rich put the claim on Dylan’s ass by squeezing it in front of the crew, and by the end of the summer the newcomer lost his virginity bent over a blanket spread on a hay bale. His ass became one popular attraction. When Dylan decided to stay for the new school year, Rich made another power move and locked Dylan’s cock up good. No point in him being distracted by his own cock when there’s so many men to service; the hornier the better right? Even Joe gave in the lure of having a slut around the farm. 

Heath assumed all was going well, but when he saw Dylan again he was shocked – the man had become a fell fledged faggot. He did look healthier, stronger, and practically glowing. Plus all those men had such compliments to say about his work effort and Joe breathlessly explained how high morale was at the farm . Heath was at a loss. He cut his son loose and left him in the care of men who appreciated boys like Dylan. Dylan wouldn’t exchange his stable of studs for anything, even if that cage only came off a couple times a year. It was heaven.

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Post is fictional; models are Damien Crosse and Chris Porter. More images are here, including some piss play and sex.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

porno-graph:

      Working in the welfare office in Louisville, I met a family in dire straights. The Father and two children were American citizens, but the rest were ineligible. I approved them for the full amount. If I roasted in hell, it wouldn’t be for this. After I transferred to another department, the Richards kept up with me. The Father told me, “We will never forget your kindness.” Since then, they had opened a successful up-scale Southern Restaurant. I was never presented a check when I went.

     The family had great hopes for Eric, who at 19 was the oldest of 6. He showed great promise as a cellist. I had heard him play; he had natural talent and the drive to perfect it.

     Mrs. Richards phoned me just before Christmas. The family was going to Canada, but Eric had obligations. “Can he stay with you? It’s OK if he drinks, but I don’t want him around hoodlums or loose women.” I promised I’d look after him. She seemed relieved.”Thanks, Mr. Dosch.”

     Eric practiced his cello, went to his Christmas concerts. He was so handsome I looked at anything else to keep from staring. On the morning of Christmas Eve, he asked if we could have some special punch. “What do you need? I have plenty of liquor but can go pick the rest up from Kroger’s—they’re open until 7.” I fixed hors’doevres: brie and sharp cheddar, smoked oysters and sausage balls, along with some sweets I’d bought at a gourmet shop. We nibbled and drank the punch he’d made.

     It was delicious but deadly. It tasted like fruit juice, but had brandy and rum in it, and you couldn’t taste the alcohol. We were flying after a couple of small cups. “You’re a good friend, Karl—the kind I can trust completely.” He was standing very close and put his hand on the top button of my shirt, then undid it. He quickly started undoing the rest of them.

    He was irresistible. I have a fetish for dark hair and eyes. I pulled his sweater up and he raised his arms; I pulled it off. As he finished unbuttoning my shirt, I was unbuckling his belt and unzipping his fly. I knelt and took his shoes and socks off while he undid my cuffs. I stood up and he started kissing my chest and neck. I leaned down and put my mouth on his, my tongue slipping in while my pants dropped to the floor. Eric sighed: “Beautiful and blond—you’re perfect.” The expression in his eyes was unmistakably. Being 10 years older, I had to know he wanted me.

     We lay naked on the rug and kissed. He touched hot spots on my body. He stroked and licked my armpits, pinched my nipples, and ran his hands down my stomach and up my thighs. His nice sized uncut cock was hard from touching me. I was hard from his attentions, even though he hadn’t laid a finger on my dick. I could feel calluses on his fingers from playing.  He raised my cock to his mouth, sucking heartily. He said, “Mmmm,” when I started to leak. I had him on his back, straddling his head with my knees. We both started sucking, making muffled sounds of uncontrolled sensation. I pressed my tongue to his ass and licked. I poked with my finger. I tapped on his hole, rubbed it with my thumb. He sucked harder.

     When I stopped, he stayed on his back, spreading his legs. He raised them in the air into a wide “V.” I got a condom and some lube and knelt between his legs, I rubbed his ass and my sheathed cock with the lube, sliding into his tight hole gently. I took his ankles in my hands. I entered the rest of the way slowly, until my pubic hair was brushing his hole. I stopped, moaned,”Relax.”

     I started fucking gently, picking up speed as his reactions showed it was feeling good. Eric gasped,”Fuck me however you want.” I began to use my ass and thigh muscles to penetrate him quickly, then slowly, drawing all the way out, plunging in fast. He scratched my back with his nails, stroked my ass. I was sweating, and after several minutes, I looked into my eyes. He was about to blow. It went all over his stomach and chest. I put my mouth to his torso and licked up every drop before I started fucking again. Eric begged,”Let me taste you.”

     Holding on by a frayed thread, I kept at it as long as I could.  I pulled out and ripped off the condom, straddling his chest. He gulped down my cum while he stroked and pulled on my balls. I kissed him to taste our mingled semen. We fell asleep holding each other.

     Eric ended up at Julliard. When he was in town, we made up for lost time.

     Four years later, we were lying in bed. He looked at me happily and said, his voice low, “You’re the only one I’ve ever loved.”

     I was elated.”I loved you even before that Christmas.”

     In a confidential tone, he said,”I think Mother set us up that Christmas. My parents have known I was gay since I was six. I could have stayed with aunt Sophie.” I was shocked. “She never forgot what you did for us. I heard her telling Father that you’d be a good man for me.” She was right. 15 years later, we flew to California and got married.

Lovely and sexy.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

femme4masc:

He had the nerve to ask YOU, his pussyboi princess, to do manual labor, because “one of the cars is really dirty and what does that say about us [he has a point there] and no one can come do it because it’s a holiday weekend and blah blah blah. Excuses.

You figure: if you’re going to have to be on all fours with him for the better part of an hour without getting cock, you might as well make him pay for it. So you wear your favorite slutty jockstrap panties. And just that.

Poor Stud is so distracted. Washing the car’s gonna take way longer than you thought, but you’re enjoying this — making him suffer — too much.

He even tries to rub and finger your pussy a few times while you’re bending over to scrub the tires. You slap his hand, look back coyly, and admonish him, “We have to focus on the work at hand, baby, because the car’s very dirty, and what does that say about us?”

By the time you’re done he’s practically salivating. Without saying a word, you sultrily walk back into the house, paying close attention to the movement of your cheeks, now glistening with sweat.

Three steps into the house and you can hear him running, panting towards you like a wild animal coming after its prey..

Three minutes after and you’re pinned under him, moaning and calling out to the heavens for the way he’s taking you.

Making him wait, and just a little angry, never ever fails to make him ravage you.

Hell hath no fury like a power bottom scorned.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

I came out of the bathroom and he wasn’t in the room. A new tray was on the bed, the pot of mint tea steaming, along with two plates of fig cookies, puffed pastries, and candied violets. I went to investigate to see if he was on the balcony and there he was. If I had picked up a saucer and cup, I would have dropped it at the sight of him.

Those spindly legs went on for absolutely ever, melting into a pair of black stiletto heels he’d pilfered after my sister left them in the courtyard. He’s bent over at the waist, jutting out that small ass I enjoyed so much while he keened out underneath me. His back rolls like a sandbar on the seafloor. The masculine way his arms bulge with muscle contrasting with delicate ankles and such sexy footwear shortens my breath.

I pad over to him, not caring at all if my feet get dusty, and rub his buttocks. He motions to stand up but I keep him bent over and part his thighs with my hands. Even with his heels on, I’m tall enough to mount him and in one motion I’m inside him again, his ass still wet and lubricated from our last session. He starts to protest as I stretch his sore ring of muscle but I shush him. There are people milling in the courtyard below, so he’ll have to be quiet if no one is to hear us.

When our testicles are pressed together, I allow him a moment to adjust before I start up again while gripping his hips. I set a slow steady pace, in no great hurry to cum. He remains silent, squeezing the balcony to steady us as I thrust. It takes perhaps 15 minutes or so for my orgasm to build and then it washes it over me like spilled tea in the lap. I rest my cheek on his spine and roll my hips, ejaculating into his body. His breathing is ragged and he gasps when I pull out of him with a ‘pop’. My seed drips out of him and onto the back of the shoe. I walk backward a few steps and examine the scene I created. “Gods, you are beautiful.” I murmur. I make him stand like that, freshly used and leaking, while I drink my tea. It’s only when the bottom of the cup is visible that I allow him to go wash.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

I watch the Prince from the nest of down comforters and pillows, covering my mouth for absolute silence. He’s discussing something serious with the Master of the House, frowning and nodding as the older woman explains whatever it is. They’re speaking in Joeben, the official language here, but I’ve been specifically banned from learning it to keep me obedient and restricted to my linguistic bubble. Who would teach a whore anyway? I’m to remain quiet, out of the way, and available when ever he desires me. The Prince speaks four total tongues, so we speak Utaian in bed and nothing else. I know a few Joeben words, but am not conversational.There are other girls in the harem I can talk to, one of the cooks, and the horse farrier, really although his accent is heavy.

They all think I’m super lucky that I get to play with the Prince’s cock but they don’t know how hard it is to experience chasmal unrequited love day in and day out. I am a thing to my darling Prince, a toy, a hole, but he is dear and precious to me. I would die for him. He could parade me around town naked if he held the other end of the rope around my neck. I know when I get older and looser, he’ll tire of me, but as the Prince’s bed companion, I will likely be delegated to his personal servant instead of being sold. Especially so, since I am branded with a tiny royal crest on my pectoral. Still…that’s my prayer, so I can guarantee I’ll be by his side forever. My eyes roam over his tanned body, blue black hair asymmetrically disheveled, white slacks clinging to his ass, the way his long fingers pluck at his ascot when he concentrates. A slave’s wish isn’t worth the air it rests on, though, but if there is any god up in the Heavens may he have mercy on my pitiful soul.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

boywife19yo:

Powerless to resist Daddy’s desires

Marco pretty much had enough of seeing vapid models with perfect chins today. He was never ever going to find the perfect boy for his client’s underwear shoot. His secretary stuck her head in, “Mr. Kittridge? There’s another model here, the agency sent him at the last minute.”

Marco almost sent him home, but squeezed the bridge of his nose and said, “He better be hot, send him in.”
“Erm…hello?”
The recruiter looked up and ogled the young creature slinking ito his office. He seemed to have brought a fresh breeze in with him, his words were so light and airy. He was gorgeous, curvy in the right places and a bit vulpine in his looks.

“Pose for me.” Marco demanded, not even caring about his name.

The model smirked at him and discarded his shirt, then toured around Marco’s office using every piece of furniture as a prop. Marco watched him bend over, stick his ass out, cross his legs, suck on his finger… oh he knew exactly what he was doing, and Marco’s quickening pulse attested to that.

After fifteen minutes of this, he told the lad to stop and stand there. He walked over to the model and pinched his chin, pulling it upwards. “You want to be ravished, don’t you?”

“I want the job,” he said, licking his lower lip.

“Fuck, you got the job the second you walked in here boy, but I see that bulge in your pants and I have a feeling it’s not the job that’s doin that. You’re all worked up, forget to masturbate this morning?”

His eyes were bright and glazed over. “Why don’t you check?”

And there went Marco’s professional decorum. He pulled the model close, devouring his mouth and lips then trailing kisses down his chin. The nameless siren groaned in his ear as Marco’s hands rounded his waist and slid down his pants. The model pressed against his leg and the recruiter felt a cock hard as an unripe banana press into his thigh. He unzipped the boy’s jeans and reached in to cup his package clothed in a jockstrap.

“Looks like you did forget.”

He got a whimper in response. Marco dragged the model over to his desk and made a quick call to his secretary not to bother him. Now, they were truly alone. Marco unraveled the lad, first with his hands and his mouth trailing down his neck until his exposed sex organs were red and dripping. He stepped back and admired that sight, wishing he had a camera. Stunning. He existed to be put in front of a photographer’s lens. Marco slid a condom over his own engorged cock and fucked that boy’s ass until he was positive the entire office could hear that model screams of bliss as he rode it back, demanding to be done harder. Well, if Marco’s staff didn’t know he was gay, they would now. 

That whirlwind meeting turned out to be a fruitful relationship for them both – the promiscuous young man that walked into Marco’s casting office that day wound up as Male Underwear Model of the Year 2008. Rumors flew abound over his dirty relationship with his recruiter, that they had been caught fooling around in limos, in restaurant bathrooms, in hotel hallways. They denied everything of course… but the hickies and the way the model walked told another story. Of course, it didn’t help that he never called the man “Marco”, but always “Daddy”.

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Rest of the photoset with names is here. I didn’t find that link until after I wrote my story so the similar plot is a coincidence.

Video
by ccallenreese

Channel 4 in the UK created this TV show in where they take three men and not only introduce them to the Hollywood porn industry they love so much, but set them up on dates with their favorite porn stars as well. Two of the men are heterosexual, but the last one is gay and even done gay porn himself. His name is Danny, and his favorite porn star is Cody Cummings (who is actually gay for pay). Super interesting 40 minute clip.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

It’s 2 am and the party is winding down. I need to leave soon – 10 am classes and all –  but I can’t find my roomie anywhere. I’m a tad worried. I brought him here because I knew a lot of gay guys were gonna be here, and I wanted him to feel comfortable in his new-found sexuality. I’d never forgive myself if someone raped him, or worse, kidnapped him and then raped him. Gorram it, where is he?

I jog up the stairs to the second floor of this McMansion, cursing it’s unnecessary amount of rooms. Bathroom? Nope. Closet? Nope, just one pissed off cat. The first bedroom is emitting light from under the door. I open it and find a pile of girls asleep on the bed. Weird, but nope. I walk to the end of the hall and pause in front of the second bedroom door. Green light? Wait, that’s smell? Weed, oh that makes…sense.

I push the door open, bracing myself for the wave of skunky smoke and bewildered stares of stoned frat boys…. but what I see inside blows my mind. There was my roommate alright, and two other boys – one being my younger step-brother and the other I did not know – in the middle of an intense threeway orgy of frotting and fucking. My jaw drops. I can see someone’s dick but I can’t tell whose it is. Wow, they are really going at it. They didn’t even pause when I opened the door. Heat spreads across my cheeks and my cock twitches in my pants. Goodness gracious.

I pull out my wallet and remove the condoms I put in there earlier and set them on the nightstand. As I back out slowly. It feels like I’ve trespassed into the lair of some nocturnal animal and am trying to appease it with an offering while simultaneously not catching its attention. With great delicacy, I tip toe out of the room and coax the door shut, returning the doorknob to its resting position without a sound. For a moment, I just stand there absorbing it all.

“Congrats, buddy, what a way to lose your virginity,” I say under my breath, a little smirk on my face. I whistle as I trot down the stairs and head home alone.